By Faith Chomicz
I stare at them all as they look at me, people of all ages, race, ethnicity, and religions. They all ask themselves the same questions "What is she looking at?" "What is she smiling at?" Everyone who comes asks these questions they all have their ideas and their theories but no matter how hard they try they'll never know. The people who come fascinate me, they always have to have an answer to everything and if they're not happy with the one they're given they make up their own. The people talk and speculate about me they start rumors it drives them crazy not knowing what I'm looking or smiling at. Perhaps I'm smiling and looking at them when they're looking at me but they'll never know.